


Sing Your Melody, I'll Sing Along

by only_freakin_donuts



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: Band Fic, F/F, Kinda, Love Confessions, Merry Christmas!, Sharing a Bed, roisa secret santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21929161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_freakin_donuts/pseuds/only_freakin_donuts
Summary: Luisa only knows how to play one, sappy love song on the guitar and there's only one girl she wants to play it for.
Relationships: Luisa Alver/Rose Solano
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Sing Your Melody, I'll Sing Along

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SamiraScamander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamiraScamander/gifts).



> For Roisa Secret Santa 2019. Merry Christmas @SamiraScamander, I've had so much fun being your secret Santa! ❤️Hope you like these mashed trope-tatoes!
> 
> Prompt: First confession of love
> 
> 🎵Falling Slowly, Once

_It’s 6am and the sun is sleeping, early November in CA.  
My shirt is stained, my shoes are wet, I’m going to AA.  
[Insert something here that ends in day, or stay, or play, or pray, or gay]  
Blah blah blah I feel like shit but I’m not going to drink, so yay!_

Luisa rolls her eyes, crumples up the page, and tosses it in the waste bin. _Ooh, three points!_ She really didn’t want to move off this bed, she just wanted to keep shooting baskets and writing bad beginnings to songs. She could also go for some coffee. 

Or a drink, she wasn’t lying when she said she wanted one.

She’d get one at the gig tonight. She knew she shouldn’t be drinking so much but it just… it all went together, the stage and the drinks and the buzz of it all. The audience looked better when she had her tequila goggles on, that was that. The stage felt better, when she had her tequila goggles on. The songs sounded better, when she had her tequila goggles on.

The quiet, poetic redhead she had dragged along on her highway to Hell was even hotter, when she had her tequila goggles on. She was probably still sleeping, like all the sane people were at this hour, and she looked so pretty when she slept, so peaceful. Her head was a hurricane when she was awake, a hurricane with red curls and freckles and a button nose. And lips that Luisa wanted to kiss, and if she drank enough maybe she’d get the courage to finally do that.

Maybe that’s why she shouldn’t drink, so she didn’t just randomly pummel her songstress business partner with sloppy, drunken, lipstick kisses. 

It’s 9am and guess what, she didn’t make it to that AA meeting. She never made it out of bed, she rolled over and went back to sleep after winning that basketball match against herself. The only reason she wakes up now is because someone’s furiously banging at her door, how rude of them.  
“One second,” she mutters, getting up to greet them.  
Oh, it’s Rose. Okay, maybe it wasn’t rude anymore. _She looks pretty today._  
“You have to check out,” Rose tells her, arms crossed over her chest to keep herself warm. She’s wearing a black and white striped shirt that’s tight to her thin frame, highlighting her breasts. Luisa can’t help but notice them, they’re right there and they’re being _highlighted, hello_. “I knocked on the boys’ door too. We’re meeting in the van in twenty minutes, okay?”  
“Do I have time to shower?” Luisa asks.  
Rose grunts. “I don’t know, do you? You have twenty minutes, that’s all I know. Don’t be late, please.”

As expected, Luisa strolled out of her room forty minutes later, wet hair and pajama pants and a grin on her face that counters Rose’s driver-seat scowl.  
She stuffs her suitcase in the trunk and hops in, plopping down beside the band’s drummer, a big beastly guy named Tim. “When can we stop for breakfast?”  
“We have to be in San Francisco by 5 o’clock, we’re running late and we need to limit our stops.”  
“Rose,” Luisa sighs. “Don’t _worry_. We’ll get there when we get there. Not like they can start the show without us, it’s _our show_.”  
“You guys need to do soundcheck, not to mention get ready and probably eat something before you get on stage, and if you’re planning on playing the new stuff you should probably practice it.”  
“We always sound great, who needs practice?” Luisa says, looking to the boys for backup. Tim and Grif have been the older, gay brothers God didn’t give her since seventh grade, and they’d been playing covers in Tim’s garage for almost as long. They adopted Rose into the fold through a high school music class, and she was every bit as much a member of the band as they were, even if she didn’t come out on stage with them. And that’s how The Rainbow Scales was born.  
“Yeah yeah,” Grif laughs. “Don’t be getting a big head about it, Lu.”

It’s 12 noon by the time they do stop– Rose wasn’t very supportive of the guys peeing into cans in a moving vehicle, which meant pee breaks. Luisa hops through the seats to sit passenger for a second. Rose has pulled out her notebook, scribbling something down at a rapid speed, with a cute little pout on her face. Luisa leans into her shoulder. “Cheer up, Rosie.”  
Rose shrugs her off. “Stop peeking.”  
Luisa pulls away, leaning against her window. “Why are you mad?”  
“I’m literally not mad, I’m just concentrating. Go get lunch.”  
“I’d rather stay here with you.”  
Rose looks up for a second, and then back down at her work. “Okay.”  
“Are you writing a duet?” Luisa asks. She noticed Rose was using different colour pens, that usually constituted a duet.  
“Maybe.”  
“Is it a love song? You better be the one singing it with me, then.” 

__Subtle, Luisa, real subtle._ _

But then Rose curls into herself a little more, protects her notebook a little. “Wait, are you actually writing a love song?” Luisa asks.  
“It’s not what you think,” Rose immediately defends. “I was going to find you a girl to sing it with. I don’t know where yet, but, the world could always use more lesbian love songs.” She’s almost whispering.  
“I don’t think we’ve ever really done a love song like that,” Luisa says, almost just as quiet. “It could be fun, I suppose.”  
“It’s a different side of the Scales,” Rose nods, avoiding eye contact, blushing just slightly. “I’ll work on finding you a duet partner for it that isn’t a man.”  
“T-thanks.” 

Before she can say anything else, Grif barges back into the van. “Rose, you want me to take over driving?”  
“That’d actually be really appreciated so I can get some work done, thank you,” she nods curtly. Like Luisa had done a few minutes before, she climbs through the seats into the back of the van, taking her notebook with her. Luisa stays up front with Grif, exchanging big smiles with him. He squints back at her.  
“It’s noon, Lu, are you drunk already?”  
“No!” she exclaims. “I might’ve had a mini or two back at the motel, but that was hours ago.”  
“I thought you were tryna stop with the drinking, go to AA and all that.” His smooth, gravelly voice holds a little bit of disdain, a little bit of concern for her.  
“And I will,” Luisa tells him, a hand on his thigh and a reassuring smile on her face. “C’mon, you know touring’s no fun sober. But I will put some real effort into when we get home, for you. Thanks for being concerned for me.”  
Rose grunts from the back. “Maybe you should sing that duet with Grif.” If Luisa didn’t know any better, she’d think maybe she heard jealousy for a second there. Her and Grif tune it out with a shared chuckle. 

“Welcome to San Francisco, guys we’re within city limits!” Grif yells out. “And we’re early, it’s only 4pm. We can check into the motel before the show, get ready there instead of at the venue.”  
“That means dressing room space,” Luisa grins, again trying to take a peek at Rose’s notebook, she’s been writing furiously on this stretch of highway. “Would you mind doing my makeup? You’re much better at it than I am.”  
Rose nods, not taking her eyes off the page. “Fine, meet me in my room when we get there.” 

“You’re sharing a room.”  
“We’re sharing a _what_?” Rose asks. Her one demand after being dragged out the comfort of her home state for this erratic tour was that she’d have the solitude of her own room to go back to at the each of each long, loud night. And her own blanket and pillow, her own soap and shampoo, a sleep mask…  
“A room. With one bed.”  
“One _what?!_ ” both girls ask.  
Grif grimaces. “Listen, this isn’t ideal for anyone, but it’s just one night. And it’s not like we’re really hanging out here, just getting ready now and coming home late and leaving very early in the morning.”  
Rose scowls, pulling her luggage out of the trunk. “Fine. This best not happen again, Griffith.”  
“Never, Rosie, scout’s honour.” 

“Guess I don’t have to meet you in your room anymore,” Luisa says, plopping down on their bed. “Okay I’m ready to be beautified.”  
Rose shakes her head, pulling her makeup bag out. (It wasn’t really _hers_ anymore, Luisa used more of it than she ever did, she was very minimalist. Luisa was all loud colours and winged eyeliner and bright lipstick.) “You wanna try that fishnet stocking trick we found on Pinterest to get the scales around your eyes?”  
“Ooh, yes please.”  
“What colour?”  
“ _All_ the colours, of course, we’re the Rainbow Scales.”  
“Oh, of course.” 

Rose is so gentle, she’s got a very light touch as she dots eyeshadow around Lu’s eyes with her finger. “What are you doing with your hair tonight, what colours?”  
“I haven’t thought about it yet, what do you think? Rainbow hair and rainbow eyes is probably a little much, huh?”  
“Maybe, but it's you, you can pull it off, that’s your thing. If you wanna pick just one colour though, I always think red’s a good one.”  
Luisa can’t help but smile, even though she’s trying to keep Rose’s canvas steady. “I don’t want to steal your signature look.”  
“We can share, I don’t mind.” She takes the fishnet away, taking a look at her work and giving Lu the handheld mirror so she can look too. “I think this is really cute, what do you think? Eyeliner?”  
“Eyeliner,” Luisa nods, “but yeah, it looks really good.” 

With Rose this close to her, she could lean in and kiss her if she wanted to. It wouldn’t be hard. It wouldn’t feel bad. She didn’t have lipstick on. She had a million reasons it would be okay and that she should do it, and… and she wasn’t going to do it, was she? There was one, stupid reason stopping her. And it was that she was damn scared, she was a scaredy cat. 

Rose whisks on some eyeliner and mascara, then plugs in her curling iron and goes to open the pack of sparkly, tinsel-like hair extensions they have stored with the stage makeup. Lu never wanted to commit to one colour in her hair (one could argue she had commitment issues), but she liked the option of different colours every night. Now that the pack of them is out, Luisa gravitates towards the blue ones, as she usually does. And again, Rose is gentle as she puts the extensions in and does her hair in loose curls. 

“Hey, while you have a minute, can you read over the song, from earlier?” Rose asks. She finally willingly passes over her notebook, flipping to the right page.  
"Really? I thought you didn't want me reading it?"  
"I didn't want you reading it till I was done, silly, of course I want you reading it, it's gonna be your song. Your song with some very lucky lady."  
"You could sing it with me," Luisa says, after a moment of reading. "It's a really good song. We could make it something really, really good."  
Rose laughs, an actual genuine laugh (and those were hard to get out of her.) "Yeah, no. You know I don't sing."  
"But I know you can sing, I've heard you. You sing in the van with us, you let me practice with you."  
"That's when there's nobody around except you, and the boys. There's no pressure."  
"We'd be up there with you. If you got scared, or nervous, all you'd have to do is look back and see that we're there, and we think you're doing great."  
"No," Rose answers firmly. "The Scales are great– you guys have fans because you guys are great the way you are, you have fans because _you_ are great. Not me."  
"Yes you! You're every bit as important to this band as me, we'd still be singing Three Doors Down covers in Tim's basement if it weren't for you!" She wishes she could turn around and look Rose in the eyes while she made her point, instead she'd give her the most intent, passionate, serious set of heart eyes that she could through the mirror.  
Rose smiles, turning off the curling iron and setting it down on the nightstand. "Well, that’s nice to hear. thank you. I still won't sing with you, though."  
"That's fine," Luisa settles. "We need you behind the scenes too, you’re always taking such good care of us, especially me. I wouldn't be half as pretty, at least."  
"Oh, that's all God given beauty, stop that. Go get the boys, we gotta get going." 

And just like that, Rose was packing up again and ready to head out, no time for kisses. Luisa missed her chance. But, she'd get her next time. 

_She said that every time._

She forgot all about it when the lights hit her face. That's why she did this, for this feeling. It would be easy for her to do drugs, but she never felt like she needed to. She got high off this. She threw back a few shots, head out on stage, and everything was okay. She was just a girl, onstage with her best friends, doing what made the happiest in the world, and she made other people happy doing it. 

"Hey, guys," she asks, between songs. "Can I have the encore to myself tonight?"  
"You're gonna do an acapella encore?" Tim asks. "You sure?"  
She shakes her head. “Not acapella, I'm gonna need to borrow a guitar, if that's alright. Acoustic, please."  
"What are you doing?" Tim asks.  
There was a total of one song she knew how to play on the guitar. One, soppy love song. And only one person she wanted to sing it to. Tim should know that by now. He nods knowingly. "Yeah, I'll have one lined up for you. Sweep her off her feet, finally." 

When the lights dimmed for the encore and Luisa came back out on stage, she bought Tim's guitar with her and dragged two barstools from the back wall. "Thanks for the applause everybody. I hope you don't mind but our encore is just gonna be me, and a friend you guys have never met before. Some of you might know about the fourth member of our band, she keeps us all in line, books our gigs, writes our songs, makes sure we don't drink ourselves to death. What you don't know is that I consider her to be one of my best friends, and I don't know what I would do without her. Some might say that I even love her a little. And she wrote a really good duet earlier today on our drive over here and I want to sing it with her, but I don't know the words to that one just yet. So it's okay, we'll sing one we both know the words to. So come on up, Rose, and pretend everybody isn't here and that's just us, and we're Falling Slowly just us two." 

Rose's cheeks turn as red as her hair, as all the eyes in the room turn to her. For a second, Luisa doesn't think she's going to get up on stage. But she does, she takes Lu's hand and takes a seat on the second barstool.  
"You're okay?" Luisa confirms, in a hushed whisper, before strumming that first C chord.  
Rose nods. "Take it away." 

Lu loves Rose's voice. They've sung this song together before, one time that she could remember vividly, even though the alcohol haze (of then and now). It was nearly pitch black in the van except for passing headlights and highway signs. The boys were sleeping, Rose was driving. It must've been a few months ago now, but Lu had never forgotten it. 

The crowd cheers them into the end of the song, Luisa could forget they were there, though. She only had eyes for Rose right now. With her tequila goggles on. "That's gonna be it for us tonight, that's the only song I can play on the guitar," Luisa admits to the audience bashfully as she hops off her barstool. "But thank you so much San Francisco, we're the Rainbow Scales!" She takes Rose's hand and raises it up, the way she does the boys' when they're the ones up here with her, she guides her down into a bow. And then Rose dashes off stage, faster than Luisa could even think to stop her. She takes off after her without a second thought. 

“Rose!”  
"Luisa, I don't really want to talk about it–" Her voice is shaking, stammering, in a way Luisa's never heard her do. Rose always had a quiet confidence to her that Lu had never seen waiver, which the exception of right now. But she turns around and Luisa's right there, she can't avoid her.  
"I'm sorry, I should've asked you before pulling you up on stage like that and singing that song–"  
"Yeah, you really should've–"  
"But I don't regret it!" Luisa makes sure to get that out before Rose cuts her off again. "And I meant every word that I said. I love you, Rose, and I could not do any of this without and I wouldn't want to! And you should be the one to sing that duet with me, it's a beautiful song and I want to mean it when I sing it on stage every night and I’m not going to feel this way about anything else. I want to sing it to _you_. Cause I love _you_.” 

Rose pauses for a moment, she doesn’t do anything at all. And then it’s as if Luisa can hear her saying _screw it_ – and then suddenly their lips are pressed together, Rose’s hands are cupped along her jaw and her eyes are shut. Luisa shuts hers too, willing herself to stop overthinking and just enjoy the moment. When they finally pull away, Rose’s hands have rainbow eyeshadow on them, her lips have a shade that isn’t hers, but she’s smiling.  
“What was that?” Luisa asks. It’s all she can ask. _Am I dreaming, did I pass out? How much did I drink?_  
“I love you too,” comes Rose’s simple response. “That’s it. I love you too.” 

Their moment is soon interrupted by the rest of the loud, boisterous band, but they’ll always have it. As they’re walking back out to the van, Lu slips a hand into Rose’s rainbow-hued palm, leans her head on her shoulder. “Point me home,” she whispers.  
“Back to our sad, shared bed motel room?” Rose confirms. “Okay, sure, home we go.” 


End file.
